


IN THE GRIP OF DOUBT

by BreakOfDawn21



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Ben Solo is a suspect, Detective Story, Detroit, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, First Order, Investigations, Kira - Freeform, Murder, POV Ben Solo, POV Rey (Star Wars), Rey is a detective, Reylo - Freeform, Slow Burn, Thriller, dark smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakOfDawn21/pseuds/BreakOfDawn21
Summary: Detroit. Detective Rey Smith is investigating the murder of Han Solo, the famous air patrol pilot, who was shot in the stomach in a poor part of town. Everything suggests that the murderer is none other than the victim's own son, Ben Solo. However, Rey feels there is something more. Even so, part of her is unable to believe that Ben Solo is really  the murderer. What abominable story is behind this potential parricide? Who is really Ben Solo ? Cold-blooded killer and amazing manipulator or innocent son unfortunately embarked on this case? How far is he really involved? It will be up to Rey to find out.
Relationships: Ben Solo & Han Solo, Kaydel Ko Connix & Rey, Poe Dameron & Amilyn Holdo, Poe Dameron & Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Finn, Rey & Han Solo, Rey & Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	IN THE GRIP OF DOUBT

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [EN PROIE AU DOUTE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499428) by [BreakOfDawn21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakOfDawn21/pseuds/BreakOfDawn21). 



> This is the translation of one of my French Reylo fic, translated by "Darth Tam".  
> (If there is any errors, please tell me so I can correct them)
> 
> I really hope you guys will enjoy it! Be warned: every detail will be important in this detective fic!!

[](https://www.casimages.com/i/200905090302348355.jpg.html)

November 1st, 8:12pm

A corpse is far from being the ideal of an end of shift. Far from it. Lifeless, cold, dislocated, gloomy. Something to haunt anyone's nightmare. But that night, detective Rey Smith felt especially ready for a new case. She took a swig of her coffee to maintain herself up and entered the decrepit apartment on the last floor of the dirty building she had to come to. The neighbors had called earlier to report a gunshot.

“The victim’s name was Han Solo, informed officer Poe Dameron. The famous air patrol pilot. 63, no criminal records. No one in the building knew he was here before they found him. The wallet is still in the inside pocket of his jacket. So, it’s indeed a murder, not a robbery that went wrong”

Rey nodded before moving toward the corpse laying down in the middle of the room. She could not believe it. It was indeed Han Solo. She admired this man. He was without a doubt one of her greatest idols. She had hope since childhood to see him in real, but surely not in those conditions. He would have deserved way better than stupidly dying in this rot of a place. The young detective sighed and kneeled to see him up close. His pupils were dilated. Short white hair, wrinkled face, nonetheless charismatic as always, facial expression frozen in time, opened mouth, airman leather jacket and a gaping hole in the abdomen.

“He has family?” Rey asked.

“Yes”, officer Finn Panaka confirmed. “A wife, a son and a brother in law. But we couldn't join them”

The young woman sighed deeply and decided to walk around the room. This shabby place brought back bad memories. The old floor was creaking. The apartment was barely furnished. Accorded to the landlord, no one lived here. What was Han Solo doing in such a place? Despite everything, sometimes, Rey would have really appreciated ghosts to be real. Thus the victims could tell them everything they want to know and stop the murderers far more quickly and easily. Then, she thought about the fact that some of the assassinated probably did not know who committed the crime any more than them.

But following her instinct, the detective was convinced that Solo had seen his assassin's face. Trying to reconstruct the scene in her mind, she imagined the pilot being brought here by the culprit. Was he bathing in shady businesses? Giving the lack of blood, besides around the body, it seemed clear he died here and not somewhere else then dragged in this hell hole. Why embarrassing yourself of bringing a corpse up at the top of this building to let it rot in a wasted apartment, all in a disadvantaged area?

Maybe a fight started? But the neighbors would have probably talked about it. By all means, Solo had end up with a bullet in the stomach and fell down on the floor of his whole height. Then, the murderer would have ran away. By what mean? The window? It was a bit high. Still, there was a terrace at the side of the building as well as emergency stairs. Rey would go inspect them after having checked the apartment. She took a tour. The place contained only two rooms. The one where he was laying and the bathroom. Rey entered. A nauseating sent came stitching her nostrils. She pulled a face. It came from the sink. Something seemed to be rotting there. Food? Compost? Flies were whirling around the decaying stuff.

Rey turned her head and blenched. A symbol was drawn on the wall with a red stuff. Blood? No, it emitted a chemical sent. Probably paint. There was a clue to catch on picture. Rey hailed Finn so he could judge the emblem. A wide circle strewn with pics pointing toward the center, the whole placed in a hexagon. A sectarian token? Maybe. The great Han Solo killed by a sect. There was a great title for the newspapers' header. The young woman's motto was simple. Any surmise was likely until proven wrong. She had never denied any possibility during each of her investigation.

“This painting reminds me of something”, Finn confessed. “I can’t wait to investigate it further. What do you think, Smith?”

The young woman shrugged and turned her head. Near them, her friend Kaydel Ko Connix was cursing under her breath while angrily scrubbing her chest with a wipe. Poe apparently had accidentally pushed her before Rey arrived, making her spill her coffee on her red blouse. Bloody slouch! The detective greeted her coworker and made another quick tour of the apartment. Nothing. Only a pigeon hidden in the kitchen cupboard which made her jump. How could this bird have ended up there?

Rey frowned. The bird had landed over the bathroom’s floor, but not on the sink. It had found itself another roost lower, near the wallpaper. The young woman came closer, replacing one brown strand of her hair behind her ear, tightening her bun. There was a detail she did not noticed, too taken by the curious symbol. An upside-down stool, stained with red, was laying between the sink and the wall’s corner. Rey imagined someone perched on it, tracing the circle. _Very interesting,_ she reflected.

The paint was still fresh. The one who had put this symbol, probably the murderer, must had been there not so long ago. Accorded to Rose, Solo had died an hour before. What if the killer did not have the time to escape? What if he was still there, lurking in a corner? But where? There was not much space in the apartment. Maybe it was one of the neighbors. Why not those who had called, to cover their trail? Rey sighed and placed herself to face the wall. She had to think like the murderer.

Coming from the assumption that he was still there, she mimed the act of painting an emblem on the wall. Very well. Then, maybe he was gone as life goes. Or maybe had he heard the police arriving. That would explain why the stool seemed to have been hit like in a panic hurry. Rey smirked. Splendid. So, she was the culprit and almost just fell off her perch, alarmed by the banging on the door. She was already hearing Poe screaming “DPD! Open the door!”. The door was apparently locked when they arrived, as it should always be. So, the murderer must own a set of keys. Was it the landlord? After all, everyone was a suspect.

Still in character, Rey pretended to storm out of the bathroom, almost tripping on her feet. Some of her colleagues gave her a subtle gaze. They were used to her methods. The detective had to find the killer a reason to justify his crime. A sect member? An obsessive and raving mad fan of the pilot? A cold-blooded professional assassin or an amateur whose situation got out of hand? Rey then noticed a broken bulb on the floor, plugged to a wire. So dirty it easily mistook with the floor. The detective lifted her face to the ceiling. It was very well what she thought. There was a piece of cable hanging in the middle, right where the bulb should have been illuminating the room. However, it had landed further than if the cable had severed because of aging.

Rey scrunched her nose, racking her brain. She then thought of a large character, taking the bulb right in the face as he came out of the bathroom in panic mode. The young woman smiled. As a reflex and in a frenzy, had then tried to untangle himself and had unfortunately snatched the cable and threw the bulb away. Rey tried to retrace the footsteps of them coming from a corner of the room to the other. From where their man - or woman, you never know - had flee the scene? The window overlooked the void, the terrace accessible only by another door at the end of the corridor. So maybe, as she had considered, the murderer was still inside.

It was only a supposition, after all. Maybe Rey was entirely wrong. She still had to verify this theory. Where the character could have possibly hide themself? There was only one wardrobe in the wall. The young woman opened it. Nothing. Rey started to doubt. Someone this tall, as she supposed, could not have disappeared like this. Maybe had he or she came out by the door after all, but not if the police was already there. The detective did not give up. She took another sip of coffee in her paper goblet and reflected. If she was the culprit, where would she hide in this empty and disgusting apartment? A hole in the wall, hidden behind a curtain or a poster? A secret passageway at the bottom of the wardrobe? A hatch? There was none on the floor.

Rey went back on her steps from the bathroom to the middle of the main room, contouring the corps. If she was twenty centimeters taller, she would have a higher view. The detective lifted her head. Then, a wide smile grew on her face. A hatch in the ceiling in the corner of the room. She found it. It was amazing! Since everyone stayed focused on the body on the floor and the filth on the walls, no one had thought of looking up. The young woman slowly approached, not alerting anyone of her suspicions. She had to confirm them first.

There was no ladder. Rey guessed her culprit had used the only dresser in the room, biased against the wall, to climb there. She frowned and placed herself right under the hatch. She would have liked to be able to see through it. How to surprise her man without scaring him? How to climb stealthily? What if she was wrong from the start? Or maybe was there an opening her criminal could have used long ago.

Suddenly, Rey noticed a hole in the wood plank. And in this hole, an iris. Rey blinked several times to be sure. She was not dreaming. It was indeed an eye. A dark eye glaring intensely at her. Had he realized that she found him? Rey swallowed and stayed still for a few seconds.

“Smith, you found something?”

Rey did not have a moment to reply to Poe. Suddenly, the hatch opened and a person tumbled down of it. Rey let out a little surprised scream and fell backward, protecting her face with her arms. Her coffee spilled all over the floor.

“Watch out! He’s escaping!” Rose shouted.

The detective jumped back on her feet, eyes locked on the suspect that had just pushed her friend to run away, toward the door of the lobby.

“He’s mine! Call the guys downstairs!”, she declared while throwing herself at his tail. “I’ll get him!”

Rey almost took the wall right in her face when she threw herself in the hallway. The man was already running big strides toward the terrace door. She followed him.

“Police! Stop right there!”

He did not obey and tried to slow her down by throwing a cleaning cart in her way to impede her. She jumped over it. He got outside, quickly closed the door behind him. She charged, using her arms as a shield, to punch the door open. The outside wind whipped her face. Rey tried to settle her breath. A little nighttime sprint could do no wrong after all. She had been right. It was indeed a tall man who had hidden somewhere in the apartment when he heard them arrive. He was more than likely Han Solo’s murderer.

The man ran to the edge of the terrace. Rey smiled. He was cornered! But no. Her suspect fell down on the emergency stairs. He was taller and so he stepped further, but Rey was certain he was not as fast and agile as her. He slipped away from her view field. Rey jumped to get closer faster. It was essential to not let a distance get between them, otherwise she would lose sight of him and he would escape. And that, that was out of the question. This man had probably killed Han Solo. She would make him pay.

The detective hurriedly got down the first stairs. She could not try to draw her weapon to shoot him in the legs. Not at that angle. Anyway, if he fell, he would not get back up. The man was trudging between the floors. He would get rid of her. She growled in anger. Quick! Suddenly, he jumped on the next building’s balcony, close to where they were.

The young woman took a run-up and copied him, landing one or two floors higher. She would not give up. She would get him. She bent to see what he was doing. The fugitive was climbing the balconies one after the other to reach the other side of the facade. She did the same, climbed over the railing, disturbing some tenant outside who wanted to take a breath on her way, murmuring quick apologies. Fortunately, she was not scared of heights! She heard the police siren down the street. She was about to get him.

The next building was also pretty close, but smaller. Rey began to run out of steam. She should have worked her cardio out before starting her day. Her mouth was dry. Her breath felt shorter and shorter. Her heart was hammering in her chest. But she carried on. The person jumped on the roof of the next building, failing at spreading out full leight. He was tough, she gave him that. Rey reflected quickly. How to snatch him the advantage? The roof on which he had landed was endowed with another floor at its side. Rey smiled and launched at the balconies of the opposite building facade to reach this new height. He was kaput.

The detective jumped and zigzagged between the parables, still out of breath, running after her suspect. Reaching the edge of the roof, he gave her a quick look over his shoulder to be sure she wasn’t following him anymore. Seeing nothing, he took a moment to breath. One fatal moment. When over him, Rey threw herself on the man, growling in anger. She hit him, they fell and she pinned him on the gravel with her whole weight. Rey first stared at him with hatred and determination, trying to regain her breath. But when they crossed gazes, everything became odd.

His eyes were afraid. Rey’s brows remained frowned, detailing him and every single detail of him. The young man looked around his thirties. Black ebony locks were framing his face, a pale face, long and narrow, asymmetrical. A scar was stripping his face from his jaw to the top of his right eyebrow. A big nose, a plump pink mouth, a slightly twisted chin and moles here and there. And his eyes. His eyes she had partially seen through the hatch hole. Brown eyes widened in choc. Her fugitive was tall and massive, but he had the eyes of a scared boy. This unsettled Rey very much, who somehow felt inside that he was not a murderer.

She was still holding him down, squishing with her whole weight, even though it was not very heavy. He did not even try to wrestle her, when his physical condition would have allowed it. He was content with only staring, bewildered. After a few moments, Finn and Poe rejoined them by the rooftop door. They must have followed them by car then climbed the floors by the staircase to reach them. They ran toward their colleague and helped her stand up. Then, they lifted the suspect up, who let them do it. Poe leaned against him the time to catch his breath.

“I need to get back at working out!” he sighed between two breath. “You… never make me… run like that… ever again! Phew! I’m wasted!”

Rey was not sure if he was talking to her or to the presumed murderer. That being said, she rolled her eyes. It was not Poe who had to jump and climb everywhere to catch their man. The detective showed her badge to the latter.

“You’re running away from a crime scene, sir. You’re under arrest. We’ll now take you to the police station. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say may be used against you in a court law”

On those words, Finn put on him the handcuffs. The suspect did not even try to justify himself. He seemed lost, dazed like a little rabbit in the middle of a slaughterhouse.

“Identify yourself”, the detective added, professional.

Before the fugitive could say anything, Poe bent down and picked up something on the floor. The man's wallet must had fell from his pocket during his fall. Rey's coworker went through different cards to identify their suspect and repressed a laugh.

“You’re going to like it, Smith. And you too, Panaka. One less relative to contact, he said before nodding at the stranger. Ben Solo, our victim’s son.”

November 1st, 9:32pm

Although a bit reluctant, detective Rey Smith decided to take care of the interrogation once at the police station. She and her coworkers, Finn and Poe, the super duo, watched through the one-way glass. Ben Solo had first looked from right to left, like looking for an escape, then started to gaze at a dot on the table, head bowed. Before bringing him in the interrogation room, they had proposed the option to call a lawyer, but he only shook his head. Rey gave a quick remark on the fact that he did not seemed to understand what was happening. His father had just been killed and he was for now the main suspect. Solo’s son had let himself being dragged there without a whine, not even a word. Despite all the matters on the plate, Rey felt like something was slipping away from her grasp and a part of herself started to doubt his guilt.

"If it's him, I mean the murderer, he's probably an _hors pair_ manipulator”, Poe affirmed. “Able to play the song of innocence so we'd let down our guard. Appearances are deceptive, Smith. You're the one who's always repeating how any possibility is not to ignore. And if this idiot thinks he can manage his own defense without a lawyer..."

"He could be schizophrenic too”, Finn added. According to my researches, he would have sojourned at an institute as a child. We could also consider him suffering from a double personality disorder. Our killer, and the nice Solo Jr. What I mean is, he does have a criminal record for minor infractions, maybe he wanted to climb to the next level…"

Rey settled for shrugging it off. Her comrades’ guesses seemed pretty likely, but she could not get rid of this weird feeling. The only relative they had succeeded in joining was the victim’s wife, Leia Organa. Apparently, the couple had secretly split up some time ago. Organa was not even in town. However, she had of course been shocked by her spouse’s death and by her son’s arrestation. They still could not tell when they would be able to interrogate her. She would travel here soon enough. Their police station had also informed the pilot’s air base. They would without a doubt organize him a memorial ceremony. The body was currently being autopsied, annalyzed under its every angles by Rose. Now was the time to go question the suspect.

Suspect or murder witness? There were the possibilities Rey was thinking about when penetrating the interrogation room. Ben Solo had hidden in the ceiling and he, accorded to her observations, was probably the artist behind the painted logo in the bathroom, since he did seemed to have flee from this room to get to the hatch. But maybe was there something else. Maybe had their suspect discovered his father’s body, whom he had followed for whatever reason, and had hidden when he heard the police arriving? For the moment, the detective could be certain of one single thing: what this man had to teach them, in the measure where he would end up talking, would be critical in resolving this case.

"Mr. Solo? Detective Rey Smith. Do you know why you're here?"

She came to sit in front of him, putting down the file on the table. The suspect lifted his gaze to her. Always those lost eyes. But he did not answer. Rey sighed and opened the file to show him the pictures took on the crime scene, starting with his father's lifeless body. Ben looked at them, swallowed, chewed his lips. The young woman was not certain about the expression growing on his face. Sadness? Pain? Regrets? Guilt?

"Your father, Han Solo, has been found dead tonight at 7:37pm. He would have been assassinated from a bullet in the abdomen about an hour earlier. You've been hiding in the ceiling behind a hatch right over the crime scene and you ran away when we found you. So, you're our principal suspect, do you understand that?"

Still no answers. Rey had to be patient. She sighed and after having waited a few seconds, trying not to push her suspect, she presented him the pictures taken of the emblem.

"Do you recognize this symbol?"

Rey really felt like she was talking alone. It was not the first time she interrogated someone who remained silent. Maybe was he still shocked. Maybe was he looking for a way out. By all means, she would know how to untie his tongue. She did not like to face failure. Why not start with a softer approach to build some confidence?

"Ben?"

The latter raised automatically his eyes to her.

"Ben, I'm here to help you, okay?”, she said with a soft voice. But I also need you. Talk to me, please..."

"Are you gonna jump on me again?"

Rey jumped slightly on her seat to the sound of his deep voice. It was not what she was expecting.

"I'm sorry?", the young woman babbled.

"Do you often jump on people you want to help? Curious method. You hurt me"

To weight his argument, he massaged the back of his neck while wincing. Rey sighed. She was lying, of course. Her role was not to help him. She was no lawyer, but detective. Her duty first of all was to protect the civilians and gather the informations to catch the culprits of all kinds of crimes. She was only trying to reassure him, hoping it would make him speak. So, the young woman took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. But you were fleeing a crime scene. You haven't stopped when I ordered you to. It was my duty to catch you up. Now, tell me: what were you doing in that place? Why were you hiding in the ceiling?"

Ben Solo shrugged. Maybe the easy way would not work. She must add a bit of spice to it.

"Ben, playing this game is pointless”, Rey assured with a calm tone, but a firm one. “You are in a police station. You are suspected of the murder of your father. So, I suggest you play it frank with me.

In the lack of any reaction from him, Rey slowly sat up from her chair, got around the table, came closer to the man and leaned toward him, cheek by jowl to his ear.

"One thing you need to know about me is that I always get everything I want. And for that, I can do whatever I want”, she whispered, her lips almost brushing his black hair. “For your sake..."

"You can kill me, I'm not giving you anything" Ben Solo breathed.

"We'll see."

It came out before she could realize what he had just said. Rey frowned. He looked half unsettled by the intimidation tactic and her proximity. Kill? Give? Why did he reply that? It sounded like what a murderer would say. But why would he betray himself like that? He only had to say: “I know my rights, I can remain silent” or “I want my lawyer”. Was he afraid? Maybe he did know the murderer and feared he or she would prey on him if he talked to the police. Maybe he was not the only culprit in this case. Was there a group? Or many partners in crime? Rey sat back to face him, tapping the air with her hands to sooth him down.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. No one here intend to kill you. Okay?"

She saw her suspect’s jaws tensing and his cheeks blushing. Rey could not make up his character. Who exactly was Ben Solo? Was he really lost? Outworn by the events? Or was he only good at his game? How to approach him? The detective felt she should beware and yet, something inside told her that this poor man was not the killer. It was churning her. Suddenly, Ben Solo lifted his head and stared at a dot behind the young woman’s shoulder, where her coworkers were watching them. He frowned. Rey turned around to follow his gaze. What was it?

"Traitor."

That was all he said. The detective was puzzled. What was he talking about? Finn was right, he might be a bit nut. Maybe also paranoid, convinced someone would kill him if he talked. Maybe had he fired on his father without meaning to. But if that so, where was the weapon? This issue suddenly hit her. The crime weapon. A 40-gauge accorded to the ballistics department. They had not found it. Neither on Ben nor in the apartment, though her colleagues had searched the ceiling in which the suspect was hiding. Had he got rid of it? How? Would he have thrown it through the window? Rey wondered about going back to tour the apartment once more to be sure.

"Ben?"

He dived his dark eyes in hers. It made her slightly wince.

"All I want, is to uncover what happened to your father, and do him justice. You can trust me, okay?"

"Nothing personal, but I don't trust cops, sorry”, he sighted while gazing around. “I could never. Not even a cop as pretty as y..."

He shut himself and his eyes widened, probably realizing what he had just said. Rey’s heart jumped. Her cheeks blushed, but not as much as Ben Solo’s. The detective ended up rolling her eyes while letting out a little sigh. It was not the first time a suspect or even a witness had given a remark on her physical appeal, as to flirt with her.

But those remarks were more often insulting. For example, how many times had we told her that she had a “nice butt”? In general, those people quickly regretted their impudence. But there was the first time she ended up in front of someone who looked shy. Sincere. Ben Solo did not have the face of a flirt, of a killer trying to give her the pretty eyes and the smirk, as to mess up her mind. His remark seemed to have only slipped out of him.

He did not dare to look at her anymore, like ashamed. In another context, Rey would have repressed a laugh, but it was not the time to highlight the absurdity of the situation. She had to get answers! The detective aspired to become lieutenant, like her friend Kaydel Connix. She was more determined than ever to prove that she was worthy. Rey breathed out strongly and asked:

"Why don't you trust the police, Ben?"

The suspect muffled a laugh.

"You know that in the neighborhood where we were earlier, horrors like this happen all the time? You seem concerned only when it touches the well-to-dos, even more when the victim is well known..."

Rey frowned. Strange answer. Ben Solo seemed to scowl. He sounded like he fed a certain bitterness toward the police forces. It was curious to talk this way when all of this was about the death of his own father, but despite everything, why telling her this if he killed him? To prove this fault he held against them? The detective had a crazy hard time understanding this man. All the theories were mixing in her mind, which ended up giving her headache. So, she decided to switch subject a bit.

"Very well. Let’s stop talking about what happened tonight for the moment. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but... how was your relationship with your father?"

"It had been a while since we'd seen each other."

"Mmh mmh... And... when had you seen him for the last time?"

"Tonight. The last time I saw him, he was bathing in his own blood."

Rey's brows furrowed. Obviously. Ben Solo was still gazing at a dot on the floor.

"I meant... the last time you saw him alive"

"I don’t lie, Miss”, he declared, finally lifting his gaze to her. “Never."

"Fine. So?"

"So, I won't tell anything more."

His behavior intrigued her more than anything.

"Ben... you do realize that you are the fishiest one in this story, right? Why don't you even try to justify your presence on the crime scene? You are suspected of _murder_! You have nothing to say to defend yourself? No alibi? You don't even want to call a lawyer? This is your right! And I would recommend it more than anything. We can provide you one if needed."

Ben Solo shrugged.

"You can put me in jail. I'm sorry, you won't get anything from this interrogation."

Rey sighed. It was not her habit to give up. She could always pressure him again. Threat him. But she had a feeling that it would lead nowhere. However, she tried once again the soft method.

"Why don't you want to tell me anything?"

"Because you are a cop. I already told you. And also, because I don't want to lie to you."

"So, tell me the truth."

The suspect lifted to her his scared eyes and falling face she knew him now.

"I can't", he whispered.

"Why?"

This time, the young woman observed him with quite worry. What did he know? If he was the killer, he sounded pretty honest. For a second, Rey imagined herself a murderer unable to tell the police he committed the crime, obviously, but did not want to create an alibi, however. It was too strange to be accurate.

"Ben, are you being threatened? Are you scared of someone? That's why you refuse to speak to me? Because we can protect you."

"I have nothing to add”, the man sighed while rubbing his face in his hand. “I think we're done. Put me in custody."

No longer obtaining answers to her questions, the detective ended up yielding. She nodded and reported to the mirror that she was done here. An officer entered to handcuff Ben Solo and bring him to one of their detention cells. Even if the detective had a hard time believing him guilty, she had to put him in custody for now. Joining back her colleagues, Rey felt completely drained.

"I don't recognize you, Smith”, admitted Finn while massaging his neck. “I was expecting you to tell him: 'It is _I_ who decide when we're done!' or something like that..."

"He's tough”, Poe sighted. “If even Rey Smith couldn't extricate something out of him..."

"It was freaky, yes! Is it me or at one point, he looked at me right in the eyes through the window while calling me a traitor?"

"I don't know, Panaka. Anyway, wow! Our little Rey really got flirted with by a parricide murderer! What a spoiled brat!"

And Poe gave the latter a little nudge. Rey winced.

"What are you talking about?"

"'Awn, Miss Smith, you're _so_ pretty for a cop!’”, her coworker mimed, his hands on his cheeks, with a high-pitched voice. “He looks pretty buff as well..."

The young woman sighed deeply, exasperated. What an idiot! Finn glared at his teammate. Rey turned away and headed toward her office to fill her interrogation report, waving at Kaydel on her way. The sky was dark outside the windows of the police station. The detective, loosening her black scarf a bit, still could not believe her failure. How could she have brought such mediocre results? Why did not she tried to pressure the suspect more? She was good at it. And he did seem to be the kind of a psychopath who would tell her that she was pretty when she shows her claws. She surely would have been able to scare this child-eyed giant. What had happened to her?

Once her report done, before getting out of the building, Rey crossed path with Ben Solo one last time while he was brought to his cell, after the fingerprint sample and photo taking. The puppy eyes he gave her highly troubled her. Why didn’t he want to talk, as he let himself be treated like a criminal without doing anything to defend himself? Rey imagined how it would have turned out to meet her idol’s son in another context. Maybe would they get along well. Anyways, he found her pretty. The detective shook her head, like to take a hold of herself. This investigation promised to be way weirder and trickier than anticipated.

Rey could not stop reviewing the last events in her mind. Something was wrong. After all, every possibility was not to throw away until proven wrong. When she caught the suspect, she expected to see the face of a murderer. A monster. A mad beast. Even, why not, creature in a mask, member of the “Pointy red orb in a hexagon clan” or something like this. But instead, she saw the normal face of a human with terrified eyes. So, even if all the proofs seem to charge against him, it felt to her pretty inconceivable that this Ben Solo could have killed his own father. 


End file.
